


Puppet

by Bookwormgal



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Death Scene, Compulsion, Evil and Crazy Villain, F/M, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Guilt, Haunting, Kidnapping, Kitsune, Loss of Limbs, Magic, Memory Loss, Mentions of Blood, Necromancy, Nightmares, Paranormal Investigators, Possession, Post-"Ghost", Rescue Missions, Supernatural Elements, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7998145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookwormgal/pseuds/Bookwormgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd felt helpless before, unable to do anything to change what was happening. This was different. This was worse. Someone else was controlling him, bending him to their will. His body moved even as he tried his best to stop. He didn't want to hurt any of them. He desperately wanted to stop. But he couldn't. He couldn't do anything. He was absolutely powerless. He was someone else's puppet and they were pulling the strings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's All Right 'Cause I'm With Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I’m writing a story for a couple of music videos with no dialogue that currently last about eight minutes combined. Good thing I’ve already determined that I am completely and utterly insane. Otherwise I might be worried about the condition of my brain.
> 
> Since we currently don’t know a lot about what is planned for the rest of the music videos in the story arc, none us know how the situation with Shiromori and Mystery was started or how it’ll end or a dozen other things. So let’s just assume that this story mostly ignores her. She took a wrong turn at Albuquerque along the way and never managed to reach Mystery and the others. There are reasons most of the world depends on maps and GPS instead of tracking the essence of people in the form of representational flowers.
> 
> I fully admit it. This is just an insane idea. Just go with it, please. The first chapter mostly sets the stage, but things should pick up soon.

Once, Arthur would have found it strange and utterly terrifying to drive his van down a dark and empty interstate with a supernatural shapeshifter with rather sharp fangs sitting beside him and a powerful ghost lurking silently in the back.

Of course, it would have been strange once to be driving predominantly on one of these trips. Technically it was his van, but that only seemed to matter while they were in their home town and he was using it for everyday stuff. Whenever they went on one of their paranormal investigations, Arthur generally only took a turn driving when someone else needed a break. That was the way it was back then. Once upon a time, it was always his best friend behind the wheel.

Then everything changed. Everything was ripped apart in the course of a single night. Their lives were torn apart all because of that stupid cave and the thing that dwelled there. The memory made him unconsciously tighten his grip on the steering wheel to the point his metal prosthetic creaked. Arthur forced his hands to relax, not wanting to wake anyone up.

For a while, neither he nor Vivi remembered what happened in the cave. The whole night was a series of mysteries. They simply woke up in the hospital, shocked to find out that Arthur was missing his left arm and no one had a clue what happened to Lewis. He was simply gone. What attacked Arthur? Who dragged Arthur and Vivi back to the van from wherever the attack happened, allowing a passing motorist to spot them before Arthur completely bled out? Why was Vivi out cold at the scene when she was physically unharmed? And where did Lewis go? Neither of them could remember anything that could answer those questions. Not for a long time.

Vivi’s memory loss turned out to be from a supernatural source, but Arthur’s problems came from good old-fashioned pure trauma. Turns out possession by a malicious entity, intense horror and guilt, unimaginable pain, and extreme blood loss could have negative effects on a guy’s mental state. Who knew? He blocked it out of his conscious mind for months. Unfortunately, Arthur’s subconscious remembered vividly.

Arthur shook his head tiredly before running his remaining original hand through his blond hair. The nightmares tormented him from the moment he woke up in that hospital, still weak and doped up on pain medication after nearly dying from blood loss and trauma. The horrific memories disguised as dreams haunted his nights even though he couldn’t remember anything in the morning except intense fear, complete helplessness, heart-breaking loss, crushing guilt, and the color green. Arthur hated those nightmares, wondering for months if it would be better or worse to actually know why he kept waking in a panic every night. Or why sometimes that panic was accompanied by tears on his face and a scream lodged in his throat. Or why he felt like he’d done _something_ unforgivable. Only after one of their trips brought them to a mysterious and haunted mansion with a furious ghost did Arthur remember one of his nightmares the next day. Only then did he remember the cave.

The dark and empty highway could not hold his attention as he drove, allowing memory to drag him back to that night. All four of them entered the cave, so ignorant of what fate awaited them. They didn’t even suspect that anything bad could happen.

Vivi had heard about the location; she’d heard the stories of strange sounds, sights, and feelings that followed anyone who entered and tunnels that did not always lead to the same place as before. The stories were enough to entice the young woman who loved the supernatural so much, but not enough to make her cautious.

Lewis thought it would be fun. He loved anything that made her eyes sparkle that much with excitement and didn’t see any harm. It would be like any of their other paranormal investigations.

Mystery, however, acted like he was on guard from the moment they parked the van. That should have been enough of a warning for them; Vivi’s pet was always the most sensitive to the supernatural. But they didn’t notice his behavior at the time.

And Arthur went from tired and reluctant to scared stiff when he actually saw the location. He was never particularly excited about walking into a possibly-haunted location in the middle of the night, especially after a long day working for Uncle Lance. But the sheer ominous nature of that cave kicked it up a notch. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to turn around and run away.

But his best friends wanted to go. They wanted to explore the creepy cave, just like they wanted to investigate every cursed forest, every haunted house, and every freaky town that might be hiding a secret cult. And just like always, Arthur went with them. Because no matter how much he feared these places, being left behind would be worse.

Stepping into that cave only made his terror grow. There was something wrong with that place and he knew it. The strange green mist that seemed to almost glow around them and a feeling of cruel malevolence left Arthur on the verge of a panic attack. But his best friend let him cling to his shoulder, just like every other time he was afraid. It helped a little. Ever since they became friends in the fourth grade, Lewis was safety, stability, and comfort. And even gaining Vivi’s friendship and Lewis eventually falling in love with her didn’t change that. So even while Arthur felt terrified, Lewis stayed close and assured him nothing would happen. He reassured him that everything would be fine. And Arthur believed him. Even when they split up, Arthur stayed close to Lewis for protection.

He should have stayed away from all of them. _They_ needed the protection.

Vivi took the lower path while they headed up. Lit by Lewis’ torch and the strange green mist, the dark tunnel eventually brought them to the top of a cliff overlooking a large chamber. The cavern was an impressive sight, the stalagmites jutting out of the ground like fangs so far below while green mist wafted around them. But Arthur didn’t head closer to the edge to sightsee like Lewis did. His fear of the foreboding place and the unexplained sense that _something is very wrong here_ kept him back. Arthur kept feeling like something was watching him, waiting to strike.

He was right. The cave wasn’t empty. Something was watching him closely. Something that sought out fear and despair, which left one member of the group as an ideal target.

The nameless, shapeless thing that lurked in the cave claimed Arthur that night, latching on. The only warning Arthur received was a slight chill before his arm started going numb. But not completely numb. Just a strange, detached feeling that spread from his hand up to his shoulder in almost no time. Panic and fear at the sensation gripped Arthur, compelling him to scream or shout or _something_. But his throat refused to cooperate. He was being locked out of his own body. Part of his sight started taking a green tint around the edges and he could see that his arm, where it all started, was changing colors.

Then he heard it. A voice in his head, smug and taunting.

“ _So many fears. So much terror. Yes, it won’t take much to break you. You’re already so weak and timid. And do you know what scares you the most?_ ”

Arthur felt his head turn towards where Lewis still stood near the edge, only moments having passed since he walked over there. The blond didn’t know what was happening, only that his body was moving against his will and that he was absolutely terrified. He was just a puppet and someone else was pulling the strings.

“ _Being alone_.”

There was no warning. There was no chance to realize what the entity possessing him intended. Arthur’s body moved. It lunged forward as half his face twisted into a vicious grin. Arthur couldn’t control his body, but he felt his left hand make contact. He felt his body push. And he saw his best friend’s look of shock, betrayal, and fear as he fell over the edge.

What little control he had left of his body resulted in tears streaming down half of Arthur’s face while the entity possessing him laughed. The scream of fright cut off abruptly as stone spikes met flesh. The stalagmites won. They broke and tore through the figure. Even from so high up and mentally collapsing into a swirling vortex of horror, denial, grief, and guilt, Arthur saw the splashes of red that quickly spread. And another voice released a brief heart-breaking wail. Vivi…

“ _Look at what you’ve done. You’re already so weak that I barely need to try. Now to take care of the young lady down there_ ,” the entity whispered in his head as he begged for it to stop. “ _Then we’ll see who else you have left. Maybe some fam—_ ”

Unimaginable pain erupted from his left arm, radiating throughout his body and interrupting the entity. Both Arthur and the one possessing him screamed in agony, the young man’s body collapsing to the ground. He saw blood, fangs, and a muzzle far too close to his face. And amber-colored glasses.

Through the haze of pain, fear, and sorrow, one part of his mind still managed to ask _Mystery_?

There was a tearing sensation. Not just the physical, white-hot pain of something pulling and ripping at his arm just below the shoulder. There was something else, pulling at the malicious force in his head. The physical and insubstantial tearing almost made Arthur black out in agony.

Then something gave way and the entity was gone. No more voices and no more green. Arthur was back in control again, gasping and shuddering in pain. His entire left side felt warm and wet, he felt nauseous and light-headed, and his vision was going blurry, but it was gone.

He tried to raise his head to look for Mystery, but what he saw wasn’t the small white dog with black and red markings around his head. The creature was too tall, too long, and clearly not a dog. He saw about half a dozen tails fanning out behind the creature. And yet somehow Arthur knew this was Mystery.

That didn’t stop him from whimpering when the large creature approached him. The blood and fangs was just too much for the miserable, terrified, and exhausted young man. He tried to crawl away, but the agony multiplied and his vision went white when he attempted to move his left arm. Something was wrong. Something worse than a bite mark. But he couldn’t think. His head was growing too cloudy. His thoughts kept whirling around the entity, the blood, the pain, Mystery, Lewis…

Lewis… He killed… He didn’t mean it… No… Please, no…

And right before he lost all awareness, he heard Mystery speak for the first time. He didn’t even have the energy to be surprised about it.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t wake up again until a few days later, with no memory of what happened and nightmares waiting to torment him. Only after the mansion did he remember what tore his arm off and why. Only later did he remember what happened to Lewis…

A cold wet nose nudged his right arm, startling Arthur out of his darker thoughts and memories. Once again, the young man needed to loosen his death grip on the steering wheel. It was probably a good thing there was no traffic in sight during the wee hours of the morning. He’d been too distracted to deal with them properly. He glanced over to the passenger’s seat to see Mystery staring at him with a far too knowledgeable gaze.

He might appear to be a regular dog, though one that they’d known for a while was far more intelligent and aware of things than was normal. They knew better now. They’d eventually asked Mystery flat out what he was. Well, they asked once they realized he could talk. He just smiled vaguely and said he was their friend. That was apparently all he would say on the matter. Their best guess was that Mystery was a kitsune or something similar, like a húli jīng. It would explain the shapeshifting and the multiple tails that Arthur glimpsed that awful night. But he still seemed to prefer to stay in his canine form. He was just willing to talk sometimes now.

But even if Arthur ended up nervous about Mystery for a while, nightmares of fangs and blood plaguing him, they knew their “dog” could be trusted. He’d lived with Vivi for years. And Mystery saved him from the entity and from hurting anyone else. An arm was more than a fair price to pay for that help.

Honestly, Arthur knew he should have suffered more for what happened. After all, he got out of that cave alive…

Mystery nudged his arm again, interrupting Arthur’s thoughts once more and pulling him back to his surroundings. He moved a little closer, leaning against the blond young man. The warm fur against his side felt rather nice.

“I know what you’re doing. Stop dwelling on it again,” Mystery said, his voice kept soft so they didn’t disturb the others. “You’re only harming yourself for no reason with your guilt.”

“I’m fine,” mumbled Arthur.

Clearly not buying it, he said, “I suppose that means it’s my turn to remind you that nothing that happened in the cave was your fault. You were possessed. Your body was controlled by another while it tried to tear your soul apart. You did nothing wrong.”

“I know, I know…”

“And it won’t happen again,” Mystery said, poking his nose at the young man’s jacket. “You’re safe from that now. No one will control you again.”

Arthur glanced down at the star pin firmly attached to his jacket, resting near his heart. He’d started adding a few pins to his orange jacket so it wouldn’t be as obvious, but the star pin was the one he really cared about. No one except he and Mystery knew what it really was. It was a safety measure and a sense of security.

Attached to the back of the yellow star and out of casual view were three tiny fragments of stone. He wasn’t even certain where or how Mystery got them. He just vanished for about a day not too long after it became obvious that Arthur was remembering. He’d waited until Arthur remembered his nightmarish memories enough to realize Mystery wasn’t really a dog. And when Mystery returned from wherever he vanished to, he brought something back: a piece of black jet, a small fragment of light purple amethyst, and a chunk of deep blue turquoise. None of them were bigger than the tiny washers that his hamster liked to steal and all stones that Mystery assured held beneficial properties that would protect him from future possessions.

With the three pieces hidden on the back of his pin, Arthur took comfort from the improvised protective charm. He needed this tangible form of security. He needed the reassurance that nothing would use him to hurt his friends again. He refused to be someone’s puppet. And Mystery certainly seemed to prefer this to Arthur’s previous idea.

He’d tried to make the dog promise to rip out his throat immediately next time something took over.

“And everything worked out in the end,” Mystery continued gently. “We may not have made it out of there unscathed, but we’re still here. We’re still together. Don’t dwell on the past and what you could not prevent. It is better to focus on what you still have in the present and hope for the future.” Nuzzling the young man’s right shoulder a little, he said, “It’s all right. You’re not alone. We’re still here.”

He was right. Arthur knew he was right. Every time one of his friends told him it wasn’t his fault, that he shouldn’t feel guilty, that they were the ones who dragged him into the cave, and that none of them could have predicted something would be attracted to his fear and possess him, Arthur knew that they were absolutely correct. But it didn’t always make him feel any better. It doesn’t matter that his mind and his soul would never even consider harming his best friends. It was still his body that performed the crime. He felt his hand as he shoved his best friend to his death. He might have just been the puppet, but that didn’t stop the guilt from haunting him. Even when he couldn’t remember, his subconscious still felt that guilt.

But Mystery was right about not being alone. They were still with him. Despite everything that happened, it was all right because he was with his friends. And that fact made his regret and sorrow easier to bear.

He glanced at the rearview window briefly. Vivi, the blue-haired young woman wrapped in a blue blanket despite her similarly-colored sweater and scarf, slept soundly in the back. She’d forgotten to take off her glasses before she nodded off and cuddled her toy sea turtle gently, undisturbed by the quiet conversation in the front seat. Slumber was practically the only time that she was still. Her energy and enthusiasm, especially when investigating the paranormal, should be bottled and sold as a coffee substitute. But for now, she seemed absolutely peaceful and perfectly content to rest next to the person she loved most in the world.

The mansion was not as bad as the cave, but it freaked Arthur out at the time. The van breaking down abruptly in front of a mansion that none of them remembered and was clearly haunted? Arthur knew it would be a disaster. But they’d been out together, trying to distract each other from the last several months and everything that happened since the night they couldn’t remember. His lost arm and the prosthetic he’d built to replace it. The nightmares that struck whenever he tried to sleep. Lewis disappearing without a trace and not even a hint of where he might have gone, to the point even the police were no longer searching and his family was losing hope. They’d needed a chance to do something normal again, even if only for a little while. And investigating the paranormal was normal for them, so Arthur followed Vivi inside as that spark of enthusiasm made her lit up like always. Even the weaker ghosts that herded them deeper inside barely fazed her.

When they were separated and Arthur encountered the source of all the supernatural energy, he didn’t recognize the powerful ghost. He didn’t realize the truth. He wouldn’t have wanted to admit the possibility anyway. A ghost that strong? One strong enough to subconsciously create an entire mansion while drawing in weaker ghosts with his mere aura and still being recently dead enough that Arthur saw a brief moment of surprise and sorrow when he realized what he’d become? Even Arthur with his reluctance for anything paranormal learned something from the investigative trips and knew that such a ghost would be fueled by an insane amount of very strong emotions. Like love. Or more likely, hatred and fury. And how could Arthur have even considered the idea that such a ghost could be their missing friend?

He didn’t know why the fiery ghost targeted him. He didn’t remember the cave then except in his nightmares. All he knew was that something terrifying wanted him dead. So he ran.

It should have been a clue when the ghost stopped when Vivi tried to protect Arthur. He should have wondered _why_ and looked harder at the skeletal figure. But he didn’t. He just saw a ghost that wanted to kill him and his remaining best friend far too close to the dangerous threat. So he grabbed Vivi and ran out of the mansion, an explosion of magenta supernatural fire chasing them. He drove them out of there and was simply grateful to have survived.

But that marked the point when he started remembering his nightmares. That marked the point when he knew _why_ he felt so miserable and guilty. That marked the point when he realized Mystery wasn’t what he pretended to be and confronted him about the cave. And since he remembered what he did to Lewis, Arthur was able to make the connection and asked the canine if the ghost was his best friend. Mystery confirmed the nightmare was real and that vengeful specter was exactly who the blond young man suspected.

Guilt and grief won out over fear. Arthur knew that Lewis wanted revenge for his death… for his _murder_. And even if he was terrified by what would happen when he saw the ghost again, Arthur still felt responsible. They’d been searching for Lewis for months only to find out that the young man was dead by Arthur’s hand…

If Lewis didn’t track them down in that stolen truck, Arthur would have sought him out shortly after. He didn’t even try to run that time. The blond young man knew Lewis deserved whatever revenge he needed to bring him peace. There was rage and magenta fire, shouts of accusation from the ghost and of protest from a confused Vivi, and resignation and quiet apologies from Arthur as he was pinned against the side of the truck.

He wasn’t even sure now what made Lewis pause. It wasn’t Vivi that time. He’d blocked her off with a ring of supernatural flames, either to keep her from interfering or to protect her. Maybe it was the fact that Arthur didn’t even try to escape, no matter how frightened he was. Maybe something in his expression did it or a part of Lewis buried beneath the burning sense of betrayal and fury still wondered why his best friend would hurt him. But something made Lewis stop and finally notice a change. So instead of the fiery death that Arthur expected, he heard a slightly-echoing voice ask a question.

What happened to his arm?

And when Arthur couldn’t bring himself to answer, couldn’t bring himself to make excuses for why Lewis died and to tell him that no one could even mourn him properly because they simply couldn’t remember… Mystery broke his silence. The dog startled both the ghost and Vivi by speaking, taking the blame for the injury while explaining he did it to save Arthur from the entity possessing him.

From there, everything erupted into chaos. Explanations, questions, confusion, and short-lived denial engulfed the group for a while. Vivi still didn’t remember the cave, Lewis didn’t want to believe how wrong he’d been, and Arthur didn’t want to excuse what happened. But Mystery was stubborn and patient. He refused to quit until he _made_ them understand.

It took a while, but eventually the entire sequence of events of that night was laid bare and somehow Arthur started receiving almost as many apologies as he was giving. Not to mention the hugs. Vivi was always a tactile person, ready to embrace whoever she deemed worthy, so everyone ended up hugged by her eventually. But Arthur didn’t expect and certainly didn’t feel like he deserved the hug from Lewis as the taller figure muttered repeated apologies, horrified at what he’d almost done to his best friend of many years. Even if Arthur told him it was all right and he deserved to suffer, Lewis kept saying that he’d known Arthur couldn’t hurt anyone and he should have trusted him more.

Things didn’t immediately go back to normal. How could they? But even with the awkwardness and the varying amounts of guilt, they started picking back up the pieces. They adapted to the talking dog who wasn’t _really_ a dog. And once it truly sunk in that he was back and no longer in a murderous state of mind, Lewis’ return shook off some of the melancholy that had hung over the others. Proving that death did nothing to affect how much they loved each other, Vivi and Lewis could barely keep their hands off each other for the first few days. As if the other would slip away if they didn’t hold on tight. Arthur didn’t begrudge them a second of their time together. They deserved it. Their affection and relief to have each other back just proved to him how much they needed each other. And even if it didn’t erase the guilt and it took time to get past his gut reaction of _there’s a dangerous ghost right there_ , the painful gaping loss of Arthur’s best friend began to ease a little.

So seeing a powerful ghost in the back of the van with Vivi’s head resting on his chest didn’t scare Arthur like it once would have. In fact, catching a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror actually comforted Arthur just like the presence of the supernatural shapeshifter beside him. He wasn’t alone. His friends were safe.

While Arthur picked up some facts about the supernatural during his time as a reluctant paranormal investigator, there was plenty he didn’t know. He’d been surprised to learn that even if ghosts couldn’t properly sleep like the living, they could slip into a state fairly similar to it. Fueled by willpower and emotions, even the dead could grow weary. They could use up too much power or even be harmed enough that they needed rest to recover. Normal fatigue could be dealt with by falling into a still, silent, and unaware state that could almost be considered sleep if it wasn’t for the lack of breathing. Extreme levels of exhaustion or damage required more drastic measures to recuperate. Lewis would withdraw into the heart-shaped locket that served as his anchor, his physical connection grounding him to the world and the manifestation of his soul. He would vanish inside, but it was a more drastic measure and left him helpless. So he generally relied on the more sleep-like method, lying in the back of the van like a corpse with only the slow pulsing of his anchor to hint otherwise.

And he certainly needed his rest for tomorrow. One of Lewis’ abilities was that he could alter his appearance temporarily into the image of his once living self. Well, it looked like the old Lewis except for his eyes. They were still glowing magenta irises surrounded by darkness. Mystery said it had something to do with eyes being windows to the soul and how it was nearly impossible for the eyes to completely hide something’s true nature. Regardless, Lewis could disguise himself for short periods of time, which was necessary if he wanted to interact with other people or even drive without scaring someone. It just took a lot of energy and concentration to maintain and that meant he needed to rest before the upcoming investigation. Lewis getting tired in the middle of it and changing back to his normal appearance right in front of the people who hired them would only lead to panic.

“Mmmhhh,” sighed Vivi tiredly, sitting up. Stretching her arms above her head briefly, she crawled towards the front of the van while taking care not to wake her boyfriend. “What time is it?”

Shrugging, Arthur said quietly, “Three-thirty? Maybe four in the morning? I’m not sure.”

“Want to pull over and let me drive for a while?”

“I can keep going a little longer. I don’t mind.”

Leaning over the seat, Vivi asked, “Are you sure? You need to get some sleep too. Busy day tomorrow and everything.”

“I’ll be fine. That’s why they invented coffee and energy drinks.”

“Arthur,” she said gently. “You have to sleep. And you said the nightmares are less frequent now, right?”

Not taking his eyes off the road, he nodded reluctantly. Vivi knew about the nightmares from the start. He couldn’t hide them when she visited him in the hospital every day after he lost his arm and with how often they camped out in the van. She knew Arthur woke up in a horrified panic every night even before they understood _why_. After he started remembering the nightmares, however, they started growing less frequent. They didn’t strike every night anymore, but they still happened. He wished they at least wouldn’t wake him up. Lewis was shocked the first time he witnessed one of Arthur’s nightmares, but Vivi knew how to help by then and held tight until he recognized his surroundings and the shaking slowed.

So Vivi knew how much those nightmares affected him and how much he dreaded them. But she also knew when the last time he actually slept was. And no one ever won in an argument against her when she tried to take care of her friends.

“Please let me drive a while,” she said. “Just try and get at least a little sleep. Please?”

He knew he couldn’t win. Without a word, Arthur slowly eased the van to the side of the road and stopped. Vivi didn’t even bother with a door. She just climbed right over the seat and gave him a quick hug.

“Go on. You and Mystery hop in the back. I’ll wake you up when we stop for breakfast.”

Fighting back a yawn as his body decided to inform him abruptly that she was right about needing sleep, Arthur silently obeyed. The back of the van might not be the most spacious accommodations, the built-in shelves of equipment taking up valuable room, but they’d always found it cozy. He remembered a few trips where no one wanted to waste money on the only seedy hotel in town and all four members of the group piled in together in a nest of blankets and sleeping bags. He missed those days…

Arthur was asleep almost before he realized he was lying down.


	2. Seen This Play Out In My Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the plot to really set into motion. Hopefully you’ll enjoy the ride.

Arthur fell asleep before having the chance to take off his prosthetic arm, but Vivi hadn’t started driving yet and Mystery watched her take a moment to detach it from the young man. His rather brilliant designs and modifications made the metal arm far more advanced than anything else available and far more integrated into his body than a normal prosthetic. It left him with far more control and the ability to manipulate it to a similar degree as his original arm. And while it might be mildly problematic to attach it so that everything responded correctly, Vivi could still take it off without disturbing his sleep.

Mystery curled up between the resting ghost and the exhausted young man. Arthur never seemed to get enough sleep. But the small star pin on his jacket did help. Mystery did what he could for his pups.

The stones for the protective charm were carefully selected. Arthur thought they were meant to guard against future possessions and that was true. Arthur would be more vulnerable to such things now, part of his soul shredded by the claws of the entity that Mystery tore from him physically and metaphysically that night. His aura practically screamed vulnerability and injury to those who could sense such things. He needed that protection, especially if they continued to explore the more dangerous parts of the supernatural. But the charm did more than just guard.

Jet to ward off evil, negativity, and psychic attacks. Turquoise for protection against evil, but also for balance and healing, for calm, and for spirit attunement and healing of body and soul. It was also a stone of friendship, something that would also help gradually repair the damage to the young man’s soul. And amethyst to calm, to soothe, for purification and regeneration on all levels, and to encourage peaceful slumber. All the pieces of stones were chosen to protect, heal, and ease his suffering.

If Arthur carried guilt from that night, Mystery carried more. He’d sensed something wrong in the cave, an indistinct feeling that raised his hackles. But he couldn’t identify or locate it. And when Mystery tried to track it, the trail leading him to follow Arthur and Lewis along the upper path, he still didn’t spot the danger until too late. Corrupting green tangling around amber. The entity burrowed into Arthur, trying to claim him body and soul, and it murdered Lewis within moments. There was nothing he could do for the protective, purple-haired young man. He’d failed his pups. All Mystery could do was tear the monster from Arthur while there was something left.

Mystery snuggled closer to the slumbering pair, listening to Arthur’s thankfully-calm breathing and the deep steady pulse from the ghost. Even now he regretted harming Arthur. It may have saved his soul and kept the entity from stealing his body permanently, but it was a gamble. Arthur nearly died anyway. Healing spells were not one of his strengths. All Mystery could do was force him into sleep, which didn’t take much effort due to blood loss and shock, and slow his heartbeat down to reduce the rate of bleeding. But even with those measures, he would have died if Mystery didn’t get him outside and caught the attention of a passing car.

Everyone lost something in the cave. Anonymity, memories, an arm, their life… But no more. Mystery started taking more direct measures to safeguard them. When Arthur began to remember, Mystery provided him protection from future possession. When Lewis returned, Mystery explained the truth and let him be more than another vengeful spirit that lashed out blindly. When Vivi started asking questions, Mystery started teaching magic to her. Nothing dangerous or powerful yet, but the young woman possessed a talent for magic. He’d known that from the start. And as long as he kept her from the more corrupting forms, she could use it to protect herself from the supernatural entities that they investigated. He gave them the tools and information to keep them safe when his mere presence wasn’t enough.

Mystery didn’t notice when he dozed off. He only realized it when something disturbed his warm, cozy slumber. A light flickered on and something moved next to him, prompting him to open his eyes.

Lewis sat up carefully, glancing at the sleeping figure of Arthur briefly. Dressed in a black suit with a familiar magenta ascot he wore in life, there was not much left to recognize him by. His face was a floating skull with glowing lights in his dark sockets and his soul was a gold heart-shaped locket, anchoring him to this plane of existence as it pulsed like the constant beat of a drum. The only visible clue to who he once was would be his pompadour, once made of purple hair and now formed from magenta supernatural flames.

Even if he was a head taller than the others, the ghost didn’t have any trouble floating over the back of the chairs to claim the passenger seat next to Vivi. Dawn had just broken, meaning it was light enough to conceal the glow of his hair and eyes while putting a glare across the windshield that would make it hard to see his skull. This made it the perfect time for him to be in the front seat.

“Morning, Vivi,” said Lewis quietly, his voice possessing a hollow and echoing quality to it. “Have you been up long?”

Leaning towards him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, Vivi said, “Not too long. Just a few hours. I managed to talk Arthur into getting a little sleep.”

“No nightmares so far?” he asked, glancing back briefly.

She shook her head and said, “He’s been quiet. I think he might actually get some rest this time.”

“Good,” he said. After a moment of silence, Lewis looked towards her and said, “At least one of us has been spared remembering that night.”

“It would be nice if the two of you didn’t have to remember either. Though forgetting didn’t really help him much,” said Vivi.

Arthur’s memory was buried temporarily by trauma, but Vivi’s loss was more permanent. Mystery knew that when she wandered out of the cave like a sleepwalker, splattered in blood not her own and reeking of someone’s dying wish. Liminal times, that moment where one thing became another, were powerful instances where almost anything could happen. Day becoming night, a child becoming an adult, one year ending as a new one begins… And crossing from life into death held more potential than most. A desperate soul in that transformative and terrifying moment might be able to achieve a final act. And Lewis, dying and reacting instinctively to Vivi’s cry, would want to take away her pain. He was a kind and caring young man and Mystery could draw his conclusions quite easily. Lewis didn’t know how or that he even did it, but he stole away her memories of that night so she wouldn’t live with that horror.

Mystery rolled a little closer to Arthur, the young man unconsciously wrapping his remaining arm around him like a stuffed toy. He kept still and hoped it would help Arthur remain resting peacefully. Vivi would sometimes do the same thing, especially when she was younger. There was comfort to be found in such proximity.

“So who exactly hired us?” asked Lewis, changing topics.

“Oh, that’s a bit of a funny story,” she said. “The owners of a small hotel sent an email, practically begging us to come.”

“Someone haunting the place and they want the ghost to stop?”

“Actually quite the opposite. There was a ghost haunting one of the rooms from back when it was a fancy house. She didn’t do anything much to cause trouble. She’d roam the halls when bored, but mostly she’d sitting in a rocking chair or hum old songs or similar stuff. Or sometimes clean the dishes down in the kitchen or start making beds. People would pay the hotel extra to sleep in the haunted room.”

“Some people like the paranormal, huh?” said Lewis, his tone making it clear he was smiling even if a skull isn’t the most expressive face.

Laughing briefly, Vivi said, “Yeah, imagine that. But seriously, the problem is that their ghost hasn’t been seen recently. And they want us to find her.”

“That’s certainly different than our usual calls. Could their ghost have… could she have moved on?”

There was a small amount of hesitation and awkwardness in his echoing voice. Mystery didn’t blame him. The fate of ghosts who no longer felt bound to this world and chose to move on suddenly became more personal when one of their members became a ghost. Lewis stayed originally out of fury from a shocking betrayal and his desire to stay with the person he loved most. Now he remained out of friendship, love, and a desire to protect those important to him. None of them wanted to think about when Lewis would someday leave them permanently, whether willingly or forcibly.

“They said she seemed content at their hotel. They claim she got along with the employees when someone encounters her in the hall. A few might even be considered friendly with her. As far as they could tell, she wouldn’t move on without at least saying goodbye,” Vivi said. “The owners might have just mentioned the lost revenue as their reason for contacting us, but I can read between the lines. They’re worried about her.”

“Then we’ll have to find their missing ghost,” said Lewis, tightening his grip around her shoulders into a reassuring hug. “Between the four of us, it shouldn’t take long.”

No, not long at all. Locating a ghost that should be haunting but wasn’t might not be their usual type of investigation, but they should not have much trouble. Especially if she was a peaceful spirit who may have simply grown too weary to do much. It happened. Lewis didn’t have the strength after erasing Vivi’s memories to immediately manifest as a ghost, taking months to finally form. And then he almost immediately used up too much power with his mansion and the emotion-fueled explosion. Some ghosts have trouble with moderation and control. That would be the most likely explanation for her vanishing. This should be an easy and simple investigation, one that even Arthur should not fear. It should be peaceful and safe for Mystery’s pups.

True, they were not truly pups, but he was not truly a dog either. Who and what he once was did not matter. Others learning such knowledge often compelled his people to abandon their human forms and to leave their human spouses and children. But he found ways around such things. Fox-wives might need to leave when their nature was revealed, but he took no spouse and did not wear a human shape. And he may have eventually proven not to be a true dog, but they still did not know for certain what Mystery truly was. He loopholed his way around so that he could have what he desired.

For most of his long life, he’d lived parallel and separate from humanity. He was not the most powerful creature and he was not invulnerable, but he remained safe from harm as long as he stood apart from the rest of the world. He’d observed from a distance, gathering wisdom and skills with age. He watched them pass him by as humanity forgot what else roamed the world alongside them. It was a lonely existence and he eventually succumbed to the same desire that plagued so many of his kind. He did not seek a mate, but something simpler. He wanted the companionship of a family. And so he stepped out into the world and became a part of it.

He found not a bride, but a girl. A bright soul that called out to magic, the supernatural, and those veiled in mystery. Full of energy and life, but also lonely in her own way. He took a form that would serve his purpose; he became what she needed. No matter what he once was, he was now the smart and faithful dog who followed her home. He became her loyal companion and she treated him as family. That was what he wanted.

He chose his family, bringing them together. Vivi, the cheerful young woman that caught his attention with her bright soul and potential for magic. For a time, that was enough. And then he spotted the two other bright souls one day, two young men who looked completely different from each other and yet fit together like a puzzles. But Mystery could see that they still were missing a piece or two. Some humans belong together and were not truly complete alone. Mystery could see instantly that Vivi would fit in that missing gap, that the three of them would be better together. Introducing them to each other merely involved running towards the young men while barking. Everything that happened after was their doing.

These bright souls were the family he chose as his own. He sought them out and claimed them. Whether he called them kits, pups, or children, they were his family to care for and protect. And he cherished them.

“Help me keep an eye out for signs near the next exit,” said Vivi. “It’s about time for breakfast and we need something a bit more substantial than junk food from the next gas station.”

“Assuming there’s any decent restaurants around here,” Lewis muttered.

“Just because your parents’ restaurant is the best doesn’t mean all the rest of them are completely terrible,” said Vivi with a slightly teasing quality. “We’ll find something edible.”

“Considering Arthur’s definition of ‘edible,’ it might be for the best I don’t have to eat anymore,” he said. “I’m surprised he hasn’t poisoned himself already.”

“Then help me find someplace where we can get a decent meal. I don’t want to start investigating on an empty stomach.”

Laughing, Lewis said, “Viv, if you’re hoping to eat enough to end up actually full, they’ll run out of food first. I’ve never met anyone who eats as much as you do and still ended up as tiny as you are.”

“Where do you think I get enough energy to keep up with my boys and all the trouble they find?”

Mystery’s tail wagged briefly as Lewis chuckled at her words. Hopefully they would find breakfast soon. Of course, dogs were not welcome in many locations, but Vivi could talk their way into almost anywhere. He would have the same quality of breakfast as the others or she would plow over everyone with her personality. Maybe they would even have some bacon. That would be a great way to start the day.

 

* * *

 

 

He stared out the window of the house he’d claimed for his purposes, an empty property awaiting someone to buy it and move in. Look at them. All those people scurrying around like insects, acting like their lives actually mattered. They were blind fools. They couldn’t see the world beyond their tiny little corner of it. Blind and ignorant. All of them.

And when he went out there, they remained so oblivious. They didn’t realize they stood in the presence of their superior. They didn’t recognize their future ruler. They did not _see_. Someday, though, he would make them all bow before him. They would see then. He was destined to rule over all these blind fools.

He turned away from the window and watching the pathetic population of the little town. He’d come here because of the only thing of valuable these people possessed. The town didn’t have much to offer, but even a single addition was valuable. She wasn’t powerful or fierce, but he needed numbers. The more he collected, the sooner his vision would become a reality.

Benjamin Grimm ignored the screams and shouts of frustration and dismay that filled the building. He could order them into silence, but there was no need. Let them rage impotently. They knew who was their master and they could cause him no harm. They must obey him and every order he spoke. His slaves would someday be his obedient and unstoppable army and he would conquer the world. Until then, let them waste their energy in idle yells. They could do nothing else.

Once, he would not have believed in fate. He would have said it was a fairy tale to explain blind luck. But now he knew the truth. This was more than pure luck fueling a fanciful dream. Fate was real and on his side. And his destined future was to become ruler of the world.

It was the only explanation for how everything lined up to guide him to this role. How else would he have found those books, hidden in the back of an old store and covered in dust? Books ignored for possibly decades and found by him, giving him the knowledge he needed about the world beyond the ordinary and a description of a powerful treasure? The spells he learned from the books would have been enough for an ordinary man, but he was not. How else would he have tracked down the green pendant that now hung around his neck? The artifact made everything he’d done so far possible. It was the reason he would someday rule this world. How else would these gifts come to him if not by fate? He was meant to find them and achieve greatness.

The world deserved to be conquered. So many people ignored the old stories. They forgot the truth of magic, supernatural beings, and ghosts. They did not consider the possibility of using such thing to gain power. They remained ignorant and blind, so he would show them their proper place. The world would not be prepared for his army and all defenses would crumble.

Benjamin went to his belongings. His tomes of knowledge, his list of slaves so far, and his journal filled with his notes lay scattered across the floor. He would need to out soon to research other locations. The empty house might offer shelter, room to contain his slaves, and anonymity, but it didn’t have internet. He would have to leave to find more information. It took time to track his targets, but Benjamin knew he was making progress. Every enslaved soul was another powerful tool at his disposal. He picked up his small notebook and pencil and tucked them into his coat pocket.

Necromancy was such a tragically-forgotten art. Not the sloppy and messy version of dragging corpses from their graves. No, he preferred the more elegant methods that his pendant provided. Binding ghosts to his will felt far more satisfying. And someday he would lead his army of the dead to lay claim to the world.

Walking out of the upstairs bedroom, Benjamin saw his slaves floating in the hallways and the rooms downstairs. Angry glares and desperate misery stared back at him. Some vague shapes, some skeletal figures, and a few concealing their appearances with illusions of their living flesh, they were all ghosts bound to their master’s will. He walked past them without hesitation or fear.

With his pendant’s power, Benjamin had ensnared and bound each soul. Their anchors were mostly blue from despair or red from frustrated fury that they could not act on, but all of them were cracked. While supernatural damage from an attack could have accounted for it, emotional pain was the cause. Ghosts were fueled by willpower and strong emotions. Break their will or plunge them into a completely hopeless depression long enough and they would crumble. But just as Benjamin’s pendant compelled their obedience regardless of their wishes, it also kept them held together. It would do little good if his army fell from the mere stress of being enslaved.

Benjamin stepped out the front door. He didn’t bother locking it behind him though. What need did he have for such things? Anyone who grew curious and looked inside would quickly run in fear. He knew this for a fact. The blind and ignorant populace would always fear the supernatural and a house filled with ghosts would be a better deterrent than any lock.

The library was not far. He would research his next haunted location, whichever might be the closest. Soon he would take his army of enslaved ghosts and move on. Every step forward was another step closer to his destiny. Ultimate power and control of the world would belong to him. It only required patience and a little hard work to achieve. In time, he would rise above the scurrying, foolish, and oblivious crowds. In time, he would be seen as the powerful and rightful ruler for this world. And anyone who disagreed would fall.

He chuckled briefly as he hurried down the sidewalk, barely noticing the others walking by or the brightly-colored van that drove past on the street. His thoughts were occupied with far more pleasing topics. All those warnings in the book about how some people indulging in necromancy fall prey to the grips of insanity… It still made him laugh. Those warnings were for the weak and foolish. There was no true danger. Not for someone such as himself. He was right to ignore those warnings when he first uncovered what fate held in store for him. If he’d been meek, Benjamin would not be closing in on his ultimate destiny. The knowledge of how much progress he was making towards that shining dream was enough to bring any man joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as long as the last chapter, but it does introduce our antagonists. A necromancer with delusions of grandeur and a house full of bound and enslaved ghosts. That certainly does not bode well for the group.


	3. Had Me Feeling Like a Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I receive a lot of support and comments for my first chapter and silence on the second one. I don’t know if people didn’t like it as much since it didn’t involve Arthur being miserable or if the difference was just random. Regardless, I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter.

The moment they parked the van, everyone tumbled out with tired groans and stretching stiffly. They might be used to long trips in the vehicle, but that didn’t mean they were immune to the effects of being cooped up in a confined space for hours on end. Vivi could hear her joints popping and cracking as she stretched upwards and rolled her neck. The movements combined with a full stomach from breakfast left her feeling energized.

“All right, everyone,” Vivi said, clapping her hands together. “We should head in and let the staff know we’ve arrived. Then we’ll do a simple walkthrough of the hotel, get a general feel for the place, and see if we can notice anything useful. And if we don’t spot any clues about where their ghost is, we’ll break out the more hi-tech equipment so we can confirm or deny if she’s really gone. How does that sound for a start?”

Running his right hand through his tall blond hair, Arthur nodded. Vivi smiled at their friend. He certainly looked better with a few hours of uninterrupted and peaceful sleep. He just seemed nervous about the upcoming investigation rather than exhausted and nervous. And it was his normal level of nervous instead of something bordering on fear. They could handle that.

“If it means I don’t have to carry and set up the heavy equipment yet, I don’t mind,” said Arthur.

“Hey, I could carry some of it,” Lewis said.

Reaching into her pocket and pulling out the sunglasses she kept, Vivi said, “Only a few pieces actually, Lew. Otherwise you’ll set off the alarms and sensors the whole time.”

Lewis accepted the offered shades with good humor. When he climbed out of the van, their ghost had pulled up the illusion of his living appearance. Skin covered his skull to show his familiar and handsome face, magenta flames concealed by purple hair, and his suit and pulsing anchor hidden away by his white dress shirt and purple vest. But even with the illusion, everything remained as before. He remained a ghost, he needed his anchor that kept beating at a steady rhythm, and he would set off any device meant to detect the supernatural.

And even the illusion wasn’t perfect. He needed to remember to avoid floating. His voice still sounded hollow and echoing, though the effect was fainter and easier to miss than in his normal form. And he could not conceal his eyes. So Vivi kept sunglasses for him when they were around other people.

“We wouldn’t want that, I suppose,” he said dryly. “Our clients wouldn’t be happy if we disturbed all their guests with our gear.”

“Yeah, my terrified screams should do that perfectly well on its own,” said Arthur.

Mystery took up his customary position next to Vivi on one side while Lewis joined her on the other. Her boyfriend took her hand as she stared up at the hotel. The white building looked like a large, old, and expensive house, the kind that would require a dozen servants and a top hat to own. In fact, that was how the place originated. The former house was converted into a hotel, making use of the countless rooms by converting them for use by guests. The architecture seemed old and traditional, but it certainly didn’t look like a classic haunted house.

“My mansion looked better,” muttered Lewis.

“ _Your_ mansion was created subconsciously by your mental image of where a ghost should appear, using far more power than you should have expended. You didn’t even craft it on purpose,” Mystery said quietly, keeping his voice down so no one noticed the talking dog.

“And this place doesn’t have creepy portraits or killer suits of armor,” said Arthur, edging close to their taller friend for protection. “…Probably.”

Grinning at both of her boys, Vivi said, “Well, we won’t know until we get inside. Come on. We have a ghost to find.”

She ran ahead, forcing the others to chase after her. The front door opened onto a foyer with a grand staircase. There wasn’t space for a front desk in the foyer, but there was a tastefully-decorated room attached that would have once served as a sitting room. A lovely fireplace took up the back wall, a few couches in a style that belonged in the Victorian era or something lay scattered around, and a guy stood politely behind a large desk. Vivi made a beeline towards the dark-haired man.

“Good morning, Miss. Checking in? And before you ask, we _do_ allow dogs. I’ll be happy to explain our hotel’s pet policy if necessary, though I’m certain you’ll find them quite reasonable,” he greeted.

Taking a moment to read his name tag, Vivi said, “Actually, Robert, I believe you were expecting us. The owner requested the assistance of the Mystery Skulls?”

“Of course,” he said with a flash of realization. “You have come here about Ms. Charlotte Baldwin.”

“Your missing ghost?” asked Arthur anxiously.

He nodded and said, “That’s right. Miss Charlotte has been here for decades. She was a servant for the household before it became a hotel. She was always nice and polite to the staff and the guests. But she’s vanished and we’re starting to worry.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure out what happened to her,” Lewis said.

Robert looked momentarily taken back by her boyfriend. Not because of the faint echoing in his voice. He wouldn’t have noticed it, the effect harder to detect while he disguised himself and you didn’t know to pay attention for it. The man just seemed mildly intimidated by his presence. Lewis, in life and in death, was a tall and broad figure. Even if he was a kind and good-hearted soul, her boyfriend stood over a head taller than most people and was built like a brick wall. Some people might be nervous when first meeting him for that reason, but Vivi had too many fond memories of watching him wrangle his rambunctious adoptive sisters. That mental image was too strong. She couldn’t be intimidated by Lewis, regardless of the circumstances.

But Robert shook off the momentary nervousness and said, “Thank you. I’ll contact the owners and let them know you’ve arrived. Do you require anything to assist your efforts?”

“No, we’ve got it,” Vivi said cheerfully. “We’ll get started investigating immediately.”

“And we’ll try not to disturb the guests in the process,” added Arthur over his shoulder, Vivi heading back to the front foyer and prompting the others to follow.

There were two main floors of the building, which meant it would be smarter to split up. They could cover more ground like that. Being smart and rational didn’t change the fact that none of them were particularly eager to divide into smaller groups. Every single one of them knew that splitting up in the cave probably wouldn’t have made things go any better, but they also knew that moment marked the point where everything started going wrong. They barely managed to get reunited together after that. It remained unspoken, but all of them were now uneasy about dividing up during a case.

But this wasn’t a cursed cave. This wasn’t a dangerous investigation. This was a normal hotel that just happened to usually have a ghost in residence. It was safe. Nothing bad would happen.

“Who wants to check upstairs for clues and who wants the lower floor?” asked Vivi.

Sneezing briefly and shaking his head, Mystery said, “Neither. Anything that might have dwelled here has left. The scent of her power and presence is fading, but still detectable. The ghost is not in this hotel.”

Vivi believed him. They’d known for years that her dog was very sensitive to the presence of the paranormal. She used to believe it was simply part of his animal instincts, the way that cats seemed to react to things invisible to humans. Now she knew it was because Mystery was another supernatural creature and they could sometimes sense others. Some possessed better senses and some were better at hiding their presence, but Mystery tended to be more effective than their hi-tech equipment in the van when it came to detecting and locating something spooky. Lewis could sense the supernatural a little; he described it as a prickling in the back of his mind or a shiver up his spine, depending on what exactly they were near. But Mystery was still more skilled.

“Can you track her?” Arthur asked.

“The scent is faint, but I should be able to follow the trail,” said Mystery. “Try to keep up.”

Her dog bolted out the door, his nose leading the way. Vivi kept an eye out to make sure that Lewis looked like he was running rather than floating, but most of her attention remained on Mystery. He hurried along the sidewalk. He alternated between running and walking, sniffing carefully as he moved. The dog followed the trail stubbornly.

“Whoa,” muttered Lewis, pausing in his pursuit.

“What?” Arthur asked, a hint of nervousness and fear edging into his voice.

Shivering slightly, he said, “Up ahead. Ghosts. _Lots_ of ghosts all in one place.”

“Really? That’s fantastic,” said Vivi. “Miss Charlotte is probably there. We’ve got to check it out.”

“That’s where Mystery seems to be heading,” Lewis said.

“Anyone else starting to get an uneasy feeling about this?” asked Arthur as the others started to pull ahead a little.

Tossing a reassuring smile over her shoulder at him, Vivi said, “Don’t worry. Anything happens, we’ll keep you safe.”

Anything he might have planned to say was interrupted by barking. Mystery might not technically be a real dog, but he took the form of a dog. And that meant that he still possessed many dog-like traits. He liked having his ears scratched, he tended to trust his nose above all other senses, and he could and did bark on occasion. And when he chose to bark, it was best to pay attention.

Vivi spotted the white dog barking at a house. It looked like a normal, two-story house. White wooden siding, black shingles, a small porch with a pair of decorative columns, a few bushes in front, and a stone path leading to the sidewalk, the place would have been perfect for a sitcom. The “For Sale” sign in the front yard made it pretty obvious the place was empty. The house was the type of building you might notice while driving by, comment on how nice it looked, and then forget about it a mile down the road. And yet, Mystery followed Miss Charlotte’s trail to place, Lewis said he sensed a lot of other ghosts, and now Mystery was even barking at it. She didn’t have to be a paranormal investigator to guess that something weird was going on in the house.

“For a haunted house, it looks very pleasant,” said Lewis, staring at the building.

“So the ghosts you noticed are definitely in there?” Arthur asked as he clutched the wrist of his prosthetic.

Lewis nodded and said, “And there are a lot. Or one really, really, really powerful one. I can’t really tell.”

“Great, _that’s_ comforting,” Arthur muttered. “And you guys are saying we have to go in there?”

“Our clients hired us to find their ghost,” said Vivi. She pointed at the house and said, “Mystery seems pretty certain Miss Charlotte is in there, so we have to get inside.”

Sighing with resignation, he said, “Fine. But if I get arrested for breaking and entering, you better bail me out.”

With some hesitation, Arthur headed towards the front door. Considering how long he’d been working on all types of vehicle repairs and maintenance in his uncle’s business, he’d picked up a lot of skill working with smaller and more delicate pieces of metal too. He could build, repair, or alter various types of machinery and moving parts. And somewhere along the line, Arthur learned how to pick locks. They mostly used it when investigating abandoned buildings, but Vivi had confidence that he could get them into the house. Besides, they would only be in there a few minutes to find the missing ghosts and maybe figure out why so many other ghosts were hiding there. Surely there wouldn’t be time to get arrested.

Mystery was no longer barking by the time Arthur reached the door, Vivi and Lewis close behind. Arthur started reaching into his jacket, paused thoughtfully, and then abruptly tried the doorknob. Vivi stared in surprise as it swung open easily.

“Who in the world doesn’t lock their front door?” she asked before glancing down at Mystery. “Did you know it was unlocked?”

“How would I know? I couldn’t open it anyway. Not all of species are gifted with opposable thumbs,” said the dog quietly, smirking at her as he stepped inside.

The four of them stepped inside the front hall of the quiet and empty house. She couldn’t even see furniture in any of the adjoining rooms. Everything appeared to be calm, the place completely deserted. Vivi began to silently wonder if Mystery and Lewis were wrong. Then her boyfriend closed the door behind them and the hidden ghosts swarmed out.

Vivi’s love of the paranormal instantly kicked in as almost two dozen specters filled the hall, the staircase, the neighboring rooms, and even the space above them near the ceiling. Arthur screamed in surprise and terror, wedging himself between her and Lewis for protection, but Vivi couldn’t help marveling at the variety of ghosts on display before her.

Some were the amorphous and inhuman-shaped ones, similar to the Deadbeats at the mansion. They were weaker ghosts with very little memory of ever being alive. They tended to be drawn to other, more powerful ghosts like when the Deadbeats were drawn towards Lewis even before he fully materialized.

Some wore the illusion of life, the biggest hint of their deceased state being how they floated above the ground. Those capable of pulling up such a disguise tended to be more powerful and more aware of their pasts. They were ghosts that could be reasoned with if necessary. They could also be more dangerous.

The majority, however, were the skeletal figures who did not bother with illusions. Some possessed hair made of magical flames of various shades or energy that crackled like electricity or something that seemed to drape across their skulls and drip like liquid or swirl lazily like fog. Others lacked those distinguishing features and would have been identical to each other if not for the clothes.

Vivi stared at them eagerly, forgetting caution for the moment. Lewis, however, always was more practical than her and remembered that not all ghosts were benevolent. He dropped the illusion of his living appearance, letting his sunglasses clatter to the ground. The act both allowed him to save his energy for more important uses if necessary and helped make a point to the other ghosts surrounding them. One hand went to Vivi’s left shoulder while the other went to Arthur’s right. Everything in his body language declared his intention to protect them if anyone behaved aggressively.

“A ghost he hasn’t captured yet,” one of the specters whispered.

“Shall he be trapped with us?” hissed another.

“Maybe they’ll release us,” yet another ghost said quietly. “Break the bonds and set us free.”

Vivi frowned at their confusing words while Arthur cringed anxiously. Something strange was going on. Even a quick glance back at Lewis proved that he was uncertain what to make of the situation. Abruptly, Mystery growled softly.

“Necromancy. These ghosts are bound by someone,” he said. “How they captured so many, I’m not certain. But it has been done. The stench of that darkness lingers on them.”

“Indeed, he seeks to _enslave_ us,” hissed a skeletal ghost, red eyes gleaming. “Every word he speaks, we must obey. We cannot leave, we cannot escape, and we cannot resist or ignore his orders.”

Then Vivi saw it. Wrapped around their pulsing heart-shaped anchors, crossing them like a large X, was black chains. Though they were different colors to signify their emotional pain and possessed various cracks creeping across their surfaces, every single anchor was chained by the strange dark metal. Their souls were bound, literally and figuratively.

“Who did this?” she asked.

“A man,” said another ghost, one who looked like a woman wearing old-fashioned servant’s garb. “He came into my hotel and spoke words I didn’t understand. It was over before I knew what was happening. Whenever he spoke, my body was no longer my own.”

Vivi felt Arthur shiver behind her at the ghost’s words and the other specters murmured their agreement that they shared similar experiences. Lewis removed his hands from their shoulders, apparently deciding the danger was not as great as he suspected. These ghosts were not their enemies. They were prisoners in need of help.

“Ms. Charlotte Baldwin, I presume?” Vivi asked.

The lady ghost nodded and said, “I am.”

“Well, we were hired to find you and bring you back where you belong,” she said, smiling at them. “We’ll have to free you from that man if we want to truly fulfill the job. And if we figure out how to undo the spell on Miss Charlotte, we should be able to release everyone else.” Vivi looked down at Mystery and asked, “Do you have any ideas how to do it?”

“I might have a few,” said Mystery. “Undoing the work of a necromancer is not a task that I have much experience with, but I am certain we can devise something.”

“He keeps his books upstairs where we are not permitted. Would those help?” another skeletal ghost asked, his echoing voice containing something approaching hope.

Vivi nodded and said, “Any information could help. If we know how he ensnared everyone, it might be easier to reverse it.”

“We’ll go upstairs and do the research,” said Mystery. “Lewis? Arthur? Would you keep an eye on things downstairs? It might be nice to have some warning if the necromancer returns.”

“Wait, you want us to stay here? With all these ghosts?” Arthur squeaked nervously.

Lewis turned towards the smaller young man and said, “If you’re worried, then stay close. If won’t let anything happen to you.”

Vivi smiled at both her boys before sliding past the crowd of ghosts. She and Mystery scurried up the stairs. Her dog instantly led her to one of the doors, his nose steering him faithfully.

She found the promised books and quickly pounced on them. Vivi opened the first one, sitting on the floor so Mystery could read over her shoulder. He would recognize useful information, valuable spells, and traps for the unwary far more easily than she would. He could speed read and knew more about magic than she could even dream of. That made it important for him to have a good view of the text.

He taught Vivi about magic and how to cast spells to protect her from helplessness. She once asked him why he’d decided to teach her specifically and Mystery told her that she was the only one who could use it. She possessed a natural talent for magic, she was not a ghost like Lewis, and her soul was strong enough to wield such power without causing harm. Mystery didn’t directly explain why he didn’t teach Arthur as well, but she could guess from the dog’s expression that his final remark about her soul’s strength might be a pretty strong hint.

Mystery warned her against trying random spells from various sources since some would be fakes, some were recorded incorrectly and could backfire, and some were purposefully filled with mistakes intended as booby-traps. So she only learned spells that he taught her or that he’d carefully studied first. Mystery focused on defensive and protective forms of magic, such as charms and shields against threats. But he did provide a few basic spells of a more aggressive nature, the sort of things that could buy her and Arthur a little time when facing a dangerous supernatural entity during an emergency. She’d learned a method for dispelling weak ghosts, spirits, and formless entities from an area and would at least cause discomfort to more powerful ones. She learned a spell to conjure light and energy that could be sent towards a target and could double as a flashlight short-term. She learned how to create fire, something that Mystery assured her worked well on a variety of creatures with and without magic. And she learned a technique for use against magical traps and obstacles, breaking and shattering the opposing spell. That one was harder though and she was still working on it.

Regardless, most of the spells Mystery taught her were simple and fast ones. They were meant for her to use in an emergency, something she could quickly use against whatever threat she faced. Their strength depended on her willpower and emotions rather than the complexity and time invested in the spell. The spell that Mystery finally made her stop on was not a simple one. He even told her that it wasn’t quite what the necromancer used, but it should be possible to adapt it to their purposes. The incantation was long and would require a lot more focus than she preferred. But it didn’t look like she would have to go back downstairs where the ensnared ghosts were. She should be able to perform the spell in this bedroom, where there would be fewer distractions.

“You should switch these two lines around, ignore this word when reciting, separate this one into two distinct syllables with a clear pause between them,” Mystery said, gesturing with his paw at the page. He was making alterations to the spell while Vivi wrote the changes in with a pencil. “And unless you want far more snapback on you than completely necessary, you’ll need to add a line here to send the energy back to its source. Otherwise you’ll knock yourself out for a few days. How in the world this man captured this many ghosts, I have no idea.”

She carefully transcribed the words Mystery recited, the young woman writing them out phonetically rather than worrying about spelling them correctly. She wasn’t normally one that advocated writing in books. In fact, she generally disliked people who wrote in the margins of textbooks, library books, or any other type of book. But this was a spell book that belonged to a man who thought it was wise to bind ghosts to his will and she was trying to find a solution to fix it. If there was ever a time to break her usual rules about writing in books, now would be that time.

“Any chance you can do this spell instead?” asked Vivi, still a little uncertain about attempting something so complex without making any mistakes.

“I told you before. Some forms of magic can only be performed by certain types of beings. This spell must be performed by a human,” he said. With a brief tail wag, he added, “You’ll be fine. You can do this, Vivi. Just take your time and focus on each word.”

Vivi nodded and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly and began reciting. She went line by line and word by word, taking care to pronounce them correctly. Incantations were rarely crafted in modern English. She’d encountered spells in Latin, archaic forms of Japanese, ancient Greek, and languages she couldn’t even identify. This one seemed to be mostly in Old English, something that made Shakespeare’s work seem recent and simple. It might as well be in Norse for all that she comprehended. But she didn’t need to understand the words or Mystery’s changes. She just needed to say them and focus on what she wanted the spell to do: break the magic black chains that wrapped around their anchors and bound them.

Using magic was hard to describe. Mystery said that like ghosts, spells were fueled by willpower and emotions. Using them felt mentally and emotionally tiring, which sometimes translated into physical fatigue as well, but Vivi’s bubbly and energetic personality made it easier. She drew on that power as she spoke. This time she felt like she was pushing against an invisible barrier, a little like when using her magical-trap-breaking spell. The similarity made sense. She was trying to break another person’s spell after all.

The incantation took a long time recite completely and a headache started to form. But Vivi kept at it, taking care not to fumble the words. She spoke the language she didn’t understand as she read the worn pages. And as she spoke the final line, Vivi felt something snap and give way.

As she fell silent, her head swam a little. Vivi blinked rapidly as her vision blurred momentarily. She’d put a lot of power into the spell and even with the complexity to strengthen it, the effort took a lot out of her. But she knew it would pass.

Mystery nuzzled her gently and said, “Good girl. You did wonderfully. Take a moment to recover before we go back down. We can use the opportunity to look at the books for hints about how the necromancer did this. I’m still curious how he bound so many.”

“Right,” she said. “Lewis and Arthur will be fine a couple more minutes. You read while I catch my breath.”

 

* * *

 

 

Benjamin’s first hint of something going wrong was when the green pendant around his neck started buzzing. He felt the vibrations, like a phone on silent or a barely-contained swarm of bees, and he couldn’t understand why it was happening. The empowered object never reacted like this before. He just knew he needed to return to his claimed house and his enslaved ghosts.

He hurried down the sidewalk, barely restraining himself from breaking into a run and drawing attention to himself. He could not afford such things. He was too distracted to deal with the scampering masses. His notebook of notes held new addresses for other haunted sites, his pendant buzzed with increasing intensity, and his mind raced through various possibilities and ideas. Whatever was happening, he needed to be prepared.

Then his pendant grew still, returning to its normal state. Benjamin was in sight of the house with the “for sale” sign when the buzzing halted. He saw the instant chaos erupted, causing the passing people to scream and his plans to unravel before his eyes.

Ghosts poured out of the building, swarming out of the front and back door. His enslaved and bound specters were racing out of the house. It should have been impossible. He ordered them to remain inside. The only way that they could leave without his command was if his power over them broke. And only an outside force could be responsible for such a thing. Someone freed his army and undid all of his work.

While everyone else fled in fear of the plague of ghosts racing away in all directions, Benjamin marched furiously towards the source. He headed towards the emptying house with anger burning under his skin. How dare they? How dare they ruin everything he worked to achieve? They did not know who they had challenged by acting this way. Whoever was responsible would pay gravely for this foolish act. He would have some form of compensation for what they stole from him: in pain, in blood, in suffering, or in service.

 

* * *

 

 

Being dead meant Lewis had no choice but to grow used to strange and abrupt things. His very demise was abrupt and strange, being murdered by what originally appeared to be his best friend without warning. Plummeting off that cliff ended his life and thrust him into a new existence filled with untold changes he was forced to adapt to.

His face was gone and left him with only his skull, stealing away most of his ability to express his emotions. Without summoning up an illusion of life, he could not smile, frown, or even shed tears. He needed to focus when he wished to stand on the ground, floating coming more naturally to him. His emotions, especially when he first awakened in his new state, seemed more intense and difficult to control than they did in life. He could feel the presence of other specters and supernatural entities, an odd sensation brushing against the edge of his awareness. He could summon and control magenta ghostly flames with a thought, flames that could provide light and heat like true fire while needing no fuel and only burning what he desired. And where once his heart beat in his chest and kept him among the living, he now possessed a heart-shaped locket that showed what he held most dear and pulsed steadily as it kept him anchored to the world. A heart-shaped locket that existed outside his body for anyone to see.

He’d grown accustomed to all the many changes to his existence since his painful death. He adapted quickly, some of his abilities coming to him naturally and without thought. And once he learned the full truth of what happened that night, Lewis did his best not to speak about what he’d lost or how he regretted his life ending so soon. He did not enjoy seeing sadness in Vivi’s beautiful blue eyes and he hated even the idea of adding more weight to the guilt that Arthur still seemed to bear. He did his best to focus on the positive. He wasn’t gone and he still had his best friend and the woman he loved. No matter what he lost that night in the cave, they were still together. And in the end, they were what he held most dear.

But even if he was now accustomed to many strange things, he could still be startled and surprised by what they encountered on their investigations. And he could certainly be impressed. While Lewis waited downstairs, watching the crowd of anxious ghosts in case their mood should shift and trying to calm Arthur’s fear, he saw the black chains wrapped around their anchors abruptly dissolve away. The bindings on the other ghosts vanished, a clear demonstration that Vivi’s work upstairs for the last ten minutes had been a success. If he still wore the illusion of his living self, Lewis would have smiled proudly. Even with how strange it was to watch the dark metal dissolve away so easily, Lewis was not surprised she figured out how to do it. His girlfriend was an intelligent and talented young woman.

The reactions of the freed ghosts proved interesting. Lewis saw how they relaxed briefly at the result of the metal chains vanishing. The loss of pressure around their anchors clearly proved a relief to them. And then that moment passed and the various ghosts sprung into action. The abruptness of their movements making Arthur yelp, all the specters fled the house. They shoved and pushed past each other as they raced towards the doors. Lewis stayed close to his friend to ensure Arthur wasn’t trampled by the ensuing rush. Only Miss Charlotte hesitated even briefly to nod her thanks before leaving with the rest. In mere moments, there was no one left in the building except for the members of the Mystery Skulls.

“I think that’s all of them,” said Lewis, easing his steadying grip on his friend. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Yeah. That many ghosts just made me nervous. Especially when they swarmed like that.”

Lewis said in a mildly teasing tone, “Well, just in case you didn’t notice, there’s still one ghost around here.”

“You don’t count. I mean, you don’t scare me. Not anymore, at least,” Arthur said, gripping the wrist of his prosthetic as he started to pace around the front hall. “Now that you aren’t in Vengeful Ghost Mode, you wouldn’t hurt me. I trust you, Lewis, and always will. The other ghosts _aren’t_ my best friend, so they’re still creepy and terrifying.”

“That Ms. Charlotte Baldwin seemed rather nice and friendly,” said Lewis. “Vivi certainly seemed to like her.” He glanced up the stairs and asked, “I wonder what’s taking her so long… Should we go up there and check on her?”

A pained yelp and a thump made Lewis turn to his left, spotting Arthur on the floor with his right hand clutching at his head. In that same instant, a dark and slimy-sounding voice hissed out a rapid series of words that Lewis didn’t recognize. He spun towards the voice right behind him, protective fury at Arthur’s injury already igniting the supernatural flames of his hair higher. But as he moved to act, a strange and unpleasant pressure wrapped around him and the voice finally spoke English.

“Be _still_.”

Instantly, Lewis felt himself stop. He wanted to move, to lash out or even just reach down towards the hurt young man beside him. But he couldn’t. His body would not respond. He felt locked out and trapped, his arm outstretched in mid-punch. Confusion and panic began to grow as Lewis could do nothing except stare, too stunned to even try to speak.

The man who’d snuck through the front door right behind them appeared to be in his early thirties with dark hair and a scraggly beard that should probably be completely shaved off. He was close to Arthur’s height if the young man’s tall hairstyle was ignored, but his build was a bit more athletic than Lewis’ skinny friend. The man wore an oversized black trench coat that draped on him like a robe. And around his neck was a necklace, the pendant dangling from it old-fashioned and a sickly green shade. Lewis realized the beady-eyed man staring at him in an unnerving manner was the necromancer.

The man was a necromancer and Lewis was a ghost.

“You will not harm me, slave,” he said in his oily voice. “If you and your companions steal away my army, then you will have to be the first replacement. That fire I caught a glimpse of will be useful for my purposes. You will use it as I deem fit. And when I leave this place, you will follow me.”

“No, he won’t,” snarled Arthur in sudden anger, practically leaping off the floor and grabbing the man’s wrist with his left hand. “Let Lewis _go_.”

The necromancer shouted in pain as the blond young man tightened his grip. While his prosthetic couldn’t achieve the super strength depicted in science fiction movies since apparently lifting heavy objects while the rest of his body was normal would be more likely to tear him apart than anything else, Arthur’s creation did have a few have one main advantage over a flesh-and-blood hand. He couldn’t lift several tons with it or punch through steel, but the gripping power of his prosthetic could tighten beyond what was normal. Arthur once demonstrated by cracking a brick in half with his grip. So if he applied it to someone’s wrist and chose to tighten it beyond his usual levels, the experience could be quite painful for the target.

But after his initial shout of pain, the man yelped, “Knock the boy away.”

Lewis’ arm, the one halted in mid-punch, jerked to the side. It caught Arthur and knocked him back, breaking his grip on the necromancer. The force did nothing more than send the young man tumbling to the floor again unharmed, but it still horrified the ghost.

He didn’t mean to do it. He didn’t want to do it. His body just acted against his will, completely outside of his control. Lewis felt himself perform the act, but he never meant for it to happen. Then he caught a glimpse of something that terrified him.

Wrapped around his pulsing anchor and the source of the strange pressure he felt was black chains. The same type of black chains that previously bound the other ghosts within the house.

“No. No, no, no, _no_ ,” he whispered desperately, the previous shock no longer silencing him.

The man spoke and he was forced to obey. Lewis’ own body rebelled against him. He’d become a puppet for the necromancer. He was trapped to obey the man’s will.

And Lewis had seen what someone controlled by the whims of another could be forced to do.

“Vivi! Mystery! Help!” shouted Arthur, climbing back to his feet. Panic and worry consumed his expression. “Vivi!”

“What’s going on?” she asked, hurrying down the stairs with an armful of books before she caught sight of the scene below. Then in a confused and worried tone, she called, “Lewis?”

“So many annoying thieves,” said the necromancer as dangerous growls filled the air, Mystery catching the scent of the man. “Slave, burn this house to the ground and follow me.”

“Please, _no_ ,” Lewis begged even as he found himself erupting in magenta flames, the force so strong that sections of the ceiling immediately collapsed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Supernatural magenta flames quickly concealed everything from sight. He didn’t want this. He did not want to hurt them. He _refused_ to hurt them with his power. Vivi, Arthur, Mystery… They were the most important people in his entire existence and every part of him fought against the idea of harming them. Even as wood and drywall burned around him, Lewis rebelled at the idea of hurting his friends.

But his body was already turning away, a puppet being pulled by his strings. His anchor darkened to blue, the same blue of Vivi’s hair. Painful cracks, small and faint ones, formed a spider web pattern across the surface. He hated this. He hated being used like this against his friends.

Even as the house burned behind him, engulfed in magenta flames, Lewis knew that this was only the start of what the necromancer had planned. And each pulse of his chain-wrapped anchor was a painful reminder that he was ensnared by the man.


	4. Maybe There's No Guarantee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think we can officially say that the protagonists are having a bad day. And it is going to take a while for things to improve.

Dodging falling pieces of ceiling while everything burned in magenta fire wasn’t exactly how Arthur pictured the day going when he first woke up. It was supposed to be a simple and safe job of locating one missing ghost. Finding a house filled with them should have been his first hint that the investigation was taking a turn for the worse. Then there was the talk about a necromancer, spell books, and Vivi and Mystery vanishing upstairs. Nothing good ever came from splitting up in an investigation, no matter how close the separate groups remained or how short the duration. And all his fears, dread, and paranoia proved correct.

The blow from behind made Arthur hit his head when he fell, stunning him. But it didn’t stop him from noticing the unknown man and the black chain that formed around his friend’s soul. Arthur was many things, but an idiot wasn’t one of them. Lewis reacted with as much fear, confusion, and helpless horror as a skull could express. Arthur knew that combination and intensity of emotions because he’d experienced them in the cave; he’d felt them when the cruel and merciless entity possessed him and took control. Arthur realized immediately what the man did to Lewis and his normal fear transformed into hatred.

It wasn’t possession, but it was close enough. The necromancer took control and stole Lewis’ ability to act. The man even wore a green pendant, the same tint that colored Arthur’s nightmares. How dare he? How _dare_ that man make Lewis suffer the same terrifying experience that struck Arthur that night? He didn’t deserve it. No one did. Possession and loss of control by any means not only terrified him, but also sparked off his normally-mild temper. And Arthur lashed out.

His fury at the necromancer didn’t amount to more than bruising the man’s wrist before a pained order forced Lewis to knock him aside. Arthur didn’t blame his best friend even if the impact stung. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his choice. It was the necromancer’s doing. And when Vivi and Mystery came rushing down the stairs, the man made it worse. Lewis apologized even as he was forced to conjure his magenta flames into an explosive inferno, bringing down sections of the house immediately.

Arthur dodged the falling fragments of the burning ceiling. He could barely see through the flames as they spread everywhere. But even with the roar and crackle of the magenta fire and the heat pressing against him, Arthur’s perpetual fear seemed to have deserted him.

He’d heard the man’s orders, he knew Lewis, and he wasn’t an idiot.

Watching his surroundings for signs of further collapse, he called, “Vivi? Mystery? Where are you?”

“Arthur? Are you all right? We’re stuck on the stairs,” Vivi shouted back.

“Hold on.”

He couldn’t see much past the fire, so he was depending on his memory of the layout of the house. He turned towards where he guessed the staircase to be. The raging magenta inferno blocked his path, promising pain and suffering to any who might draw near. While Arthur suspected there wasn’t really a _good_ way to die, burning alive seemed like a particularly horrible death. But he knew and trusted Lewis. So burying what little doubt tried to bubble up, Arthur walked straight into the flames.

The fire felt hot against his skin. Uncomfortably hot. But it didn’t hurt him. It didn’t burn his body, his hair, or his clothes. And it didn’t last long. A few steps and he was through, staring straight at Vivi and Mystery’s startled faces.

“Lewis’ fire burns only what he wants it to,” he explained, “and the guy only told him to burn the _house_. But a collapsing building can still kill us, so we’ve got to go.”

Grabbing his offered hand, Vivi jumped off the crumbling stairs and followed Arthur into the fire. Mystery followed right beside them as they fled through the magenta flames. The sound of cracking wood above them compelled further speed from the group, the instinct to survive kicking in. They managed to dive through the front door just as all structural integrity completely surrendered the fight.

Arthur cringed from where he landed on the front lawn, the loud sounds of breaking wood and the burning fire filling his ears. He couldn’t bring himself to move until the noise died down. Only when the racket quieted so only the crackle of fire was left did he risk looking up again.

The house was officially a lost cause. There seemed to be nothing left but supernatural fire and kindling. Arthur’s missing fear finally started flooding back. If they were any slower, all three of them would have been killed. The very thought made him shake and his heart race.

“Are any of you hurt?” asked Mystery.

“I’m fine,” Vivi said, shifting the books still in her grip. “I think we’re both fine.” Climbing to her feet unsteadily, she suddenly looked around in dawning horror and said, “Lewis… He took him…”

Arthur reacted to her lost and broken tone instantly, climbing to his feet and wrapping his arms around her. She didn’t get the chance last time. They didn’t know what happened to Lewis the first time. She was more confused and worried. She didn’t have the chance to break because it didn’t really sink in that he was gone until after Lewis returned. This was closer to how she would have reacted if she remembered his death that night.

It wasn’t fair. The necromancer took Lewis, forcing him to walk away against his will. Once again, Arthur had lost his best friend and Vivi lost the one she loved. They lost him. So Arthur wrapped both arms around her, comforting Vivi as much as she comforted him.

“It’ll be all right,” he mumbled. “We’ll find him. We’ll get him back.”

“I can’t lose him. Not again,” said Vivi quietly.

Nuzzling the pair, Mystery said, “He’s right. We’ll find Lewis and save him from the necromancer. And you have the man’s books, which should help us. Come on. The longer we wait, the further away he’ll drag our friend.”

He was right. Arthur and Vivi managed to pull themselves together. They ignored the magenta flames and took off running back down the sidewalk. A few terrified people were just starting to poke their heads out again, but their group barely paid it any attention. They simply ran towards the hotel and the van.

Just as Arthur reached towards the handle of the driver’s side door, a voice called out to them. His head snapped around, his fight-or-flight instincts kicking it up a few levels. Arthur barely relaxed when he recognized the man from the front desk.

“Mystery Skulls. Miss Charlotte has returned and she said you were responsible for her safety. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Sorry, but an emergency came up,” Vivi shouted rapidly, the young woman and dog piling into the back. “We’ve got to go, so tell the owners that they can pay over the computer. Sorry.”

They didn’t wait for a response. They didn’t really care about the money at this point anyway. Arthur was already starting the vehicle and backing out of the parking space. Vivi and Mystery focused on the more difficult part.

“This book,” said the dog, poking his nose at their collection of tomes while Vivi dumped the new volumes on the floor. “Page fifty-eight. There should be a tracking spell.”

“What am I using to connect to him?” she asked, the sounds of flipping pages filling the air.

“Us. The connection between us should be enough to track Lewis.”

From Arthur’s understanding of both magic and ghosts, that made perfect sense. Tracking spells worked off connections, such as using a belonging to locate an owner or a fragment to find the rest of an object or a magical signature to track the caster or even using blood relations to reunite family members. Ghosts being made of emotions and willpower meant that emotional connections were just as useful as physical objects. Lewis loved Vivi enough to remain after death and Arthur suspected his anchor would show her as what he cherished the most, his heart’s desire.

Vivi recited the tracking spell as Arthur pulled the vehicle onto the road, listening for more precise directions to follow. They would find Lewis. They would get him back, no matter where the necromancer tried to hide. The scary guy might not realize it, but they were not giving up their ghost.

At least not without a fight.

 

* * *

 

 

Lewis struggled to handle the boiling cauldron of emotions as the necromancer commanded him to follow him towards the less populated and more secluded parts of the town. He worried about Arthur, Vivi, and Mystery. Even if his fire would not touch them, the man’s vague orders not enough to compel _that_ from the ghost, Lewis knew they could still be hurt by the damage to the house. He hated being used like that, hated feeling helpless, and hated the man who was the cause. He felt miserable and frustrated as his cracked anchor pulsed painfully within the confines of the black chains. Combine all those emotions together with the fact that being a ghost heightened all his feelings anyway and he was left as an emotional mess.

He’d tried to discretely pull at the chains when the man wasn’t looking. He didn’t have much hope of it doing anything since the other ghosts would have undoubtedly tried, but Lewis couldn’t help making the attempt. He quickly learned not to bother. It not only failed to even move the black chains, but it also stung rather sharply. Magic was clearly the only method that would work.

The man finally stopped in front of a dark green car that was at least half a decade old, complete with a few dents. Lewis couldn’t help thinking it wouldn’t be very uncomfortable in there. Small cars and being above average height did not make a good combination.

“Do you actually think the both of us will fit in there?” asked Lewis, putting as much venom as possible into his words while he could still speak. “If that’s how you were transporting the other ghosts, then that has to be the ugliest clown car in the world.”

“I don’t appreciate an attitude from my slaves.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate being enslaved by some crazed lunatic either. Looks like neither of us are having a good day,” said Lewis sharply, the flames on his head flaring up for a moment.

“And as long as I have this,” he said, touching the pendant around his neck, “your day is unlikely to improve. Ever.”

Well, that provided a few answers. His ability to ensnare so many ghosts must be connected to the green pendant the necromancer wore. Enchanted objects weren’t common, though fakes tended to show up all over the place. But real magic objects did exist. Lewis stared at it with glowing eyes, a desperate and thin hope flickering.

He didn’t pause to think or give the man a chance to realize how the ghost might use that information. The necromancer commanded Lewis not to harm him, but that left plenty of room for interpretation. A skeletal hand lashed out, grabbing onto the green gem.

“ _Stop_.”

Lewis body locked up, unable to crush the pendant as he wanted or even loosen his grip. Frustration and despair burned through him. _No_. He was so close. His anchor beat against the pressure of the chains, helpless rage making his bones shudder against the desperate verbal order. All Lewis could do was glare at the man while held in place by the spell’s power.

“Let go of the pendant and never touch it or try to damage it again,” the necromancer commanded.

His hand unclenched and he dropped his arm back to his side. Magenta flames flare up again in response to his hatred of the man and the situation. He was so close to escaping. He could have broken the spell. But with a few words, the man took away that single chance.

The necromancer was right. Lewis was his slave. He was a puppet.

“Now is there anything you want to say for yourself? Any explanation for that futile attempt?”

It wasn’t an order. Lewis could choose to remain silent. He couldn’t move because the command to stop still held him in place, but his voice remained his own for the moment. He could keep quiet if he wanted. But Lewis would rather make certain the necromancer knew what he faced.

“If I didn’t let death itself keep me from what I wanted, what makes you think you can hold me for long? We both know more powerful emotions at the end create more powerful ghosts and I remained for the woman I love and out of hatred for the one who killed me. You can’t get more intense than that. And I investigated the supernatural in life and I’ve only learned more since. So I _will_ escape your control in time and you’ll be left with a powerful ghost with plenty of reason to dislike you.” He stared at the man firmly, letting his eyes brighten within their sockets. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You have no idea what you’re risking by playing with the supernatural. If you aren’t careful, it can maim or kill.”

The necromancer didn’t even flinch. The other ghosts probably would have already threatened and ranted at the man. They were probably more creative and scary about it too. Lewis didn’t have much experience terrifying someone, frightening Arthur at the mansion notwithstanding.

“That rebellious attitude won’t last long, slave,” said the necromancer. “You’ll learn your place. You’ll realize that there is no escape.”

“Your other ghosts escaped,” Lewis said. “We freed them.”

A flash of fury overtook the man’s features briefly at the mention of the loss. Lewis would have grinned smugly if he had a proper face at the moment. It was a small victory against the necromantic puppeteer, but it was better than nothing.

“Bow, slave,” ordered the man. “Bow to your master. Bow to Benjamin Grimm, the future ruler of the world.”

He tried to resist the command. He tried to fight against it. But Lewis might have not even bothered with the attempt. His body didn’t even hesitate, moving into a deep bow to the horrible man. Lewis’ fury burned hotter and brighter in response.

“There. Was that so hard?” asked Benjamin. “Now, to answer your concerns about the space in my car, there’s a very simple solution.”

The bow finally ending, Lewis straightened back up as quickly as he could manage. He felt disgusted with himself for bowing to this creep, no matter how involuntary it was. Maybe he could burn the car before the necromancer could stop him. He would have to be fast—

“Withdraw into your anchor until I call for you,” ordered Benjamin.

He didn’t even waste his energy resisting this time. Lewis just let himself dissolve and fade away, slipping inside the heart-shaped locket. His mind quieted as his body vanished. All that remained was the chained, cracked, and discolored manifestation of his soul.

It wasn’t exactly sleep. It wasn’t even like a coma, though that description was closer. There were no dreams and few thoughts. All that he could truly experience in the silent and still state was the faintest flickers of frustration, worry, and helplessness. He was buried deep down.

His awareness of his surroundings was faint, only certain sensations and stimuli reaching him. He could feel the pressure of the black chains and the ache of the cracks, but it was too distant and far away for him to pay attention. Even his emotions and few remaining thoughts were muted and dull. He just withdrew into himself. He couldn’t even bring himself to properly notice the new distant pressure around him, a hand picking up his anchor. Lewis simply slipped into his deep unconscious state.

 

* * *

 

 

“Am I still going the right way?” asked Arthur, calling over his shoulder.

With most of her attention buried in the newly-stolen spells books, Vivi said, “That’s what the tracking spell says. Just stay on this road until I say otherwise.”

He gave a brief nod as she refocused on the research. She and Mystery sat in the back of the van with numerous tomes scattered around them. The pair read everything she’d snatched from the necromancer. Knowledge was power and they needed every advantage possible.

Besides, the research kept her mind off the situation. She didn’t want to think about Lewis being kidnapped. Last time she lost him, Vivi just knew he was missing and she was partially distracted by Arthur’s injury and nightmares. And she didn’t _know_ Lewis was in trouble back then. This time, she did. No amount of denial and hope would erase that knowledge.

What would they do if they couldn’t save her Lewis? What if she lost him, _truly_ lost him permanently? What would they tell his family?

Vivi pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, her thoughts skipping over to the topic of the Pepper family and everything that happened after the cave. Telling them that their adopted son was missing and that no one knew what happened to him was hard. But when Lewis returned as a ghost, it was even more difficult to figure out what to say. How do you break that type of news to someone? For the first few weeks, Lewis didn’t want to let them know anything. He didn’t want his parents or his little sisters to be afraid of him.

But eventually Vivi and Arthur convinced Lewis that it was far worse to leave his family with that uncertainty forever. They approached the topic slowly and gradually, first just letting the Pepper family know that he was back and didn’t really remember what happened during the months he was missing. Considering the memory issues Vivi and Arthur experienced, that was easy for them to accept. Only once they were certain the Peppers had come to terms with Lewis actually returning did Vivi and Arthur explain that he didn’t come back the way he left. After making Arthur promise not to confess or take on more guilt than he deserved, Vivi told them there was an accident and Lewis fell to his death. It wasn’t an easy thing to accept, but the Peppers were open-minded enough after all the discussions of ghost investigations that they were willing to believe what the Mystery Skulls told them. Lewis’ life was over, but he wasn’t truly gone. And that was more than many people got. Lewis had visited them a few times since then, but always short visits and always wearing his illusionary appearance of how he looked in life. Even now, he didn’t dare show them his true form as a skeletal specter. Vivi knew it would break his heart to see his parents and little sisters afraid of him. But even with all the caution he took, at least his family could still see him.

Not anymore, though. That guarantee was over. She couldn’t tell them he was gone. She could barely consider the idea of losing Lewis forever. Telling the Peppers when they’d barely got him back was unimaginable. She couldn’t put them through that. Even if Vivi didn’t already have plenty of reason to find her missing boyfriend, the idea of shattering that family’s world again certainly provided extra incentive.

“I think I found out how the necromancer bound so many souls,” said Mystery abruptly. Tapping a page with his paw, he said, “This book describes an artifact, an enchanted pendant called the Eye of Osiris. Not that it is actually of ancient Egyptian providence, but someone apparently liked the name. It provides the owner with power over the dead and allows him to command more ghosts than any human could manage alone. The pendant is the only explanation.”

“The guy _was_ wearing something around his neck,” Arthur confirmed.

The dog nodded and said, “The necromancer managed to track down one of the few true magical objects still in the world.”

“Benjamin Grimm,” interrupted Vivi. “The guy wrote his name on the inside cover of his books.”

“Really? The creep’s name is Ben?” Arthur asked. “Shouldn’t it be something like Damian or Vlad?”

“His parents didn’t know he would delve into some of the darkest forms of magic,” said Mystery distractedly. “Regardless, while he will undoubtedly know other spells, we need to focus on removing or disabling that pendant. That should free Lewis and will keep him from enslaving other ghosts.” He looked at Vivi and said, “If you can’t get close enough to Lewis and get all the way through the spell, I’ll try to get the pendant away from the necromancer. Either method will free him.”

“And me?” Arthur asked.

“You can assist me in trying to grab the pendant if we get the chance, punching the man in the face or anything else you can think of to help,” said Mystery. “Just do what you do best when the time comes, Arthur.”

“Run away screaming in terror? Not sure how much good that’ll do,” he muttered dryly.

Vivi said, “You can do more than that. We all know it. And between the three of us, we’ll have Lewis back in no time.”

As she spoke, Vivi almost believed her own words. She did her best to embrace that confidence. She needed to believe that they could get him back. They all needed that hope.

Her tracking spell reacted, a slight tugging sensation at the back of her mind, causing Vivi’s head to glance away from her books. The young woman took a moment to confirm the change before turning her attention to Arthur.

“They turned left up ahead,” she said.

Peering through the windshield cautiously, Arthur asked, “This one? You sure?”

“It was a while ago, but yeah. We’re following their trail, not just moving in a straight line towards them. It’s easier this way since we have to stick to roads,” she said. “So take the next left and pick up as much speed as possible without being arrested.”

“Got it, Vivi.”


End file.
